


(Show Me A) Better Love

by Fanofthebastillelife



Category: Bastille (Band), Dyle - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Bastille - Freeform, Depression, Drug Use, Gay, Happy Ending, London, M/M, Recovery, References to Suicide, bit of a, dyle - Freeform, non-con, references to self harm, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanofthebastillelife/pseuds/Fanofthebastillelife
Summary: S H O W    M E    A    B E T T E R    L O V E





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains heavy themes of abusive relationships and domestic abuse. If this triggers you do not read this fic.  
> Suicidal thoughts, heavy talks of death, and referenced depression throughout.  
> I wrote this in a way to highlight abusive, gay relationships. Abuse can be women on men, women on women, men on women, and men on men. It can happen to anybody.   
> Never be afraid to ask for help.

           Heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, the stench of alcohol following him like a cloud looming steadily overhead. Always there, though periodically inactive. Every little step and every little sound he makes causes the young man's heart to thump in his chest, his hands to shake even more, and his efforts to be asleep even more futile and pathetic. His entire body is covered with a thin film of sweat, and his chest rises up and down faster than it should be in panic as he lies on his back, listening to the stairwell of the cheap, rundown apartment creak, the shuffle of feet against the dirty, worn carpet and the final turn of the key in the lock, something that feels like a finality. 

             "Oi, ger'rup you good for nothing," his words are slurred and his voice is so thick that it sounds like he smokes forty a day. Kyle can't remember why he was in love with this man, but once upon a time, he was. He saw him as somebody who returned his love, his warmth, and his feelings mutually, but a kick to the ribs reminds Kyle that the memory is no longer a reality. Where did he go? 

              Kyle wishes they still had their bed. His boyfriend pawned it for drug money, so all that remains is a mattress on the floor- and Kyle had to pay for that himself. He sometimes asks how his life ended up like this. The mattress is not comfortable to sleep on without a bed frame. 

              The man lets out a yelp of pain, knowing that his already blotchy skin will be forming another bruise. He hates the way all of this has turned out- he hates how he didn't listen to his parents when they noticed his boyfriend's manipulative ways. They knew how bad it was before they were even official, back when Kyle considered him kind.

 

               "I said:  _Get. Up."_ Kyle is a tall, slim man, so he does not weigh much at all. When his boyfriend reaches down and yanks him up by his t-shirt, the strong man makes it look like he was doing no more than picking up a book. Kyle's breathing is heavy and laboured, and he stumbles when he is released to his feet, stumbling around like a newly born doe. 

              "I'm s-sorry," Kyle mumbles quietly, casting his eyes to the filthy ground below him. Is that blood? 

              Although Kyle's boyfriend, who he refuses to name, is just a tad taller than Kyle, he weighs at least twice Kyle's bodyweight. This makes it easy to force his power over him.

              As quick as he pulled Kyle onto his feet and towards him, he shoves him away, sending him into the wall opposing them. He looks angry, which makes Kyle feel sick. "Do you not do  _anything_ around here? God, if you got off your arse for once and did something, we wouldn't be living in such a state. Imagine if the police turned up, you idiot. We'd both be fucked."

             Broken syringes, white powder, and joints sit around the small flat, littering the place and making it look only half as bad as the reality. If they saw the abuse and the fights that took place, then the picture would be complete. 

 

             The holes in the walls, the smashed locks, the destroyed countertops. They all tell stories that Kyle doesn't have the stomach to talk about. His spirit has suffered the most from all of this. Even Kyle doesn't know where the happy, bright-eyed, high-spirited man he once was has gone. Now, he is nothing more than the shell of the man he used to be. He misses being younger and care-free.

             His boyfriend stalks off quickly to the bathroom, his presence dominating the house almost as if he were an unwanted guest. That's what it feels like, though. Kyle cannot relax and feel comfortable at all when he is around. 

             Kyle follows carefully behind the man to the bathroom, knowing that if he didn't, he would get called lazy. 

              _"What?!"_ The man snaps as he spins to look at Kyle, seeing him staring down at the floor. The other man's heart leaps to his throat, fear consuming him. In another universe somewhere, Kyle is happy. That universe is not this one.

              He looks up in surprise- he doesn't want to be hit for not doing anything, but now he might for doing what his boyfriend usually tells him.

              It's a game Kyle cannot win. 

              "What're you following me around for?" He demands, glaring at the boy as he turns around and looks at him in the mirror. He grabs his razor with a heavy hand and runs it under the tap, before using his other hand to wet his chin, neck, and cheeks. "Get out of my sight you worthless bastard. Why are you always following me? It's pathetic." 

              "Sorry..." Kyle mumbles quietly, looking back down and shuffling out of the bathroom, hearing and  _feeling_ the door slam shut behind him as he stands awkwardly in the living room, almost as if he were an odd piece of furniture. He wishes he could click his heels and get away from here.

              When night descends upon them, the room is dark and cold. It calms the room down, although Kyle is still as uncomfortable and tense as ever. His boyfriend holds him tightly, but not in the romanticised way that the media would show you, no. He holds him in a way that makes it feel like he is being crushed, almost as a warning that if he tries to leave, he will be hurt. It causes him pain because of the bruises on his ribs, and it's difficult to breathe because of the weight. 

               Death once scared Kyle. He never found faith or reliability in any sort of God, so his thoughts often led him to what happens after death. Is there an afterlife? A Heaven or Hell? Or nothing? Perhaps, this is the one he likes to think about most, you get another chance in a completely new being. Since he has been in this relationship- if you could call it that-, death doesn't seem that scary. He has sat atop the block of flats many times when his boyfriend was out, or on a high, wondering what would happen if a strong gust of wind might just push him off the edge.

               He never had the guts to take action, though. Perhaps next time around, everything will be better. He doesn't like people thinking he is being dragged down so much by his boyfriend, but Hell, that would be the obvious answer. He was driven to suicide because of him. 

               It's not right.

               A small whimper of pain escapes from Kyle when his boyfriend shifts, pulling him tighter to his chest and pressing harder into his ribs. He feels like he shouldn't complain, however- he has been in far worse states than this. There have been times where he genuinely thought he was going to die. A few bruises are nothing compared to that.

              He just prays he'll get a break soon. 


	2. Chapter Two

              The following day, Kyle's boyfriend isn't out with his friends shooting up anywhere, so they decide to head down to the local pub together. Well,  _they_ didn't decide to do it, his boyfriend decided and Kyle was told. He wishes he didn't have to go with him to the pub- he's now down a tenner for the drinks (four, in total, only one of which was Kyle's), and he would prefer to stay home, by himself. Staying home is always better than being out anywhere with his boyfriend- he knows people are looking weirdly at him, questioning looks about the bruises painted on his skin. He's just too scared to tell him that. 

              "Look at that freak over there," his boyfriend grunts, gesturing to the boy sat by the piano on stage. His skin is awfully pale and his hands are shaking. If Kyle was in his position, he thinks he would be equally as nervous, too. "He's clearly a faggot." 

              Kyle wants to laugh at the comment, because, really, that's pot call kettle. He watches the man with curious eyes, taking a lot of notice to the thick, black waves of his hair which stands in all directions. He can't see much else of him. 

     "Oi, stop looking at 'im. I'm the best guy you'll meet. Understood?"  _He_ slams his fist on the table between himself and the man who should love him (not the little freak on stage), making him jump. The area around them fall quiet and turn to look, though nobody says anything. The fact that so many people are looking at him makes Kyle feel sick, so he mumbles an apology and looks down at the table. He fears the boy on stage is looking, too.

                Unfortunately, this is a position that Kyle has found himself in too many times before. Him doing something 'wrong', his boyfriend getting angry, making a scene, and then everybody else sitting in an awkward silence around. Nobody ever says anything when it gets like that. Nobody steps in.

                 "Fuck me, he's going on stage. Making everyone's ears bleed, I bet." Kyle doesn't dare look up at his boyfriend as he speaks, but he does give a sideways glance to the man on stage, watching him look nervously around. Nervously at him.

                 "My na-name is Dan Smith," he stutters gently into the microphone, both his voice and his hands shaking.  _He_ mumbles something about the boy, but Kyle doesn't listen. Slowly, the pub comes to life with music about Summer evenings and drinking in beer gardens. It draws Kyle in and makes him wish his life was at least something like that.

              He enjoys the music and the songs, although he cannot relate to them in any way, but they are something he can dream for. He hopes one day he will be able to reach that dream, hopefully with good friends and somebody that does actually  _loves_ him. That's the life he hopes for, but that's the life that is so far away. 

          "He was shit," his boyfriend rolls his eyes as the young singer disappears from the stage. "Couldn't write a song if his life depended on it." 

                  "I thought he was alright," Kyle mumbles, only just to get glared at by his boyfriend. Since when was  _Kyle_ allowed an _opinion?_

               "Yeah, you would. You just want to cause arguments, that's your fucking problem." He spits, pushing his chair back violently with a squeal. "I'm going to the toilet. Get us another drink." 

                    He sighs and stands up, drifting over to where the bar is. Much to his relief, the young singer is sat there, his hands still shaking as they wrap around a cold drink. 

                 "Hey," he smiles, taking a seat next to him. "You alright? You looked really nervous up there, but you were really good!" 

                     The singer smiles, his eyes lighting up. "Oh! Thank you!" He grins, his face filling up with happiness. "I was terrified before I went up there. I have really bad stage fright- but you've got to kick the boat out there, right?" He laughs, his young face gently lighting up.

                         "Yeah, course! You're on the right track, mate, you're bound to go far. Best of luck to you." Kyle smiles back at him, and he hopes the marks on his face aren't too obvious.

                        The barman comes over and serves Kyle, and as he sits talking to Dan, his phone buzzes violently as it sits on the countertop. 

_Where the fuck are you, Kyle?_

                        "Who is that,  _Kyle?"_ The other man says, saying Kyle's name in a similar way to how his boyfriend would spit it- but it's gentle, playful, almost. It's full of everything that  _his_ voice lacks. Kyle loves the way he says it.

                         Kyle takes a second to look down at his phone. It has a large crack down the middle of the screen with smaller cracks falling off of it like a lightning bolt. It happened when Kyle's boyfriend was angry about a football score and took the blame out on Kyle, beating the man and smashing his phone in the process. 

                          "Is it your dad?" 

                       And suddenly, Kyle is even more mortified than he was. "Oh, no..." He mumbles, sliding his phone back into his pocket and moving to pick up the drinks. "He's my boyfriend." 

                         _"Boyfriend?"_ The man echoes and Kyle fears for a moment that he will spit in his face and call him a faggot, or something like that. "He seems a bit, you know, controlling." Just from the one text, the man doesn't like the sound of this blokes boyfriend.

                        "It's fine- we're just, like, messing around. You know how it is. Anyway, yeah, it's been really great getting to meet you. I'll see you later, yeah?" Kyle plasters a clearly fake, worried smile on his face, and disappears before the other man can say anything. When he gets back to his boyfriend, the confidence he once felt around the singer quickly diminishes, and he suddenly feels sheepish and stupid. "Sorry, the bartender was busy." 

                        "Your lies are fucking pathetic."  _He_ rolls his eyes, downing his drink in just one go. Kyle quickly tries to drink his own, but he doesn't even like alcohol that much. "Hurry up, anyway. We're leaving. I'm sick of being around you, all you do is lie and act up- it's like you're a kid." 

                     They both stand up and leave the pub, making it halfway down the street until there is nobody around, and  _he_ grabs Kyle and throws him up against a wall of an alley, holding him there by his neck. Fear flashes in his eyes. 

                          "If I  _ever_ catch you talking to some other little faggot again, I will fucking kill you. Am I clear?" 

                        Kyle's throat is being held so tight that he can hardly breathe; his attempts of prying the man's hands away from him prove futile. Since when has he had the strength to do anything like that. He's never been able to defend himself properly.

                        "I said:  _Am I fucking clear?_ Have you turned into a mute as well as being a fucking retard?!"  _He_ is so close to Kyle that he's practically spitting on him. Kyle is terrified.

                          "N-no!" Kyle finally manages to gasp out, prying chilly hands away from his throat and allowing himself to breathe. "I mean yes! I understand." 

                        And Kyle knows it will never get better than this. This is all his life will be from now on.


	3. Chapter Three

               "Ky, you have  _got_ to get away from him." 

                Kyle and his sister are sat in the home of their parents, their family home, the following weekend, in Kyle's childhood bedroom. Nothing has changed since he moved out all those years ago- is it five, now?- the same posters hang on the walls, the same wallpaper is marked and ripped in points. The same everything. Just not the same boy.

                "He's not as good as you think he is. He isn't the best man in the world. He isn't everything you think he is. He isn't worth shit." 

                "That isn't true," the boy argues, shaking his head. He knows he's denying the truth, and lying to everybody and himself. He just can't admit this situation aloud.

            He won't let himself believe it, but his younger sister's words have an impact on him. Somewhere along the line, Kyle has been taught, almost conditioned, into accepting that this abuse is okay, that the broken bones, the bruises, the spilt blood, all suggest nothing but a healthy relationship. He won't admit to himself that this is abuse, because he's clinging onto a period where it felt like he could conquer anything with  _him_ by his side, where it felt like bliss, where he was happy. He clings onto the fragmented love that once existed.

                 "He loves me." 

                "For God's sake, Kyle! Why won't you wake up and realise that he doesn't love you? He's using you for his sick, sick games, his twisted mind is manipulating you so he can do to you what he wants! Leave him before he hurts you even more!" The words couldn't clearer, and they make perfect sense. A smarter man would've listened, but not Kyle. She is right, though. He has been manipulated to refuse everything any anything that suggests signs of mistreatment or abuse. "He's a pile of shit and you're just too fucking blind to see it." 

                 Kyle rises from his bed in a huff. "Fuck off," he demands, glaring at her as he walks towards the door, his voice radiating his anger. "You don't know the half of it."   

                 His sister follows him as she mirrors his actions, rising and grabbing his bruised wrists, pulling him back so they are facing each other. Despite the very large height gap between them, she still gets in his face. "Yeah, Kyle. You're right. I don't  _want_ to know the other half. But what I do know is that I used to have a strong, charismatic, funny, loving big brother, and that man has been beaten down at the hands of his own boyfriend to become  _you,"_ she spits the word, glaring at Kyle, "Quiet. Scared of everything. Too fucking gullible to see the abuse, the manipulation, and the fucking bullshit he puts you through. I want my big brother back, Kyle." 

 

                The man had stormed out off the house and walked the several miles back to the flat. He couldn't be bothered to take the bus- he was too angry to sit still for that amount of time. Luckily, he finds his boyfriend, still as drugged up as when he left him, hunched over on the floor with a belt wrapped around his arm and a needle sitting next to him. Well, it's lucky for Kyle, anyway. Now he won't end up with fresh bruises or a bloody nose. 

                Kyle has always been very open about his sexuality to anybody who gave a damn. He liked boys. If a girl came along that he liked, then God damn, he'd probably love her as much as he would a man. His family always knew this, and the people who didn't like it were quickly cut out of his life. Everyone, especially his family, had his back. That's all he needed.

                  The first boyfriend he had was everything he could've asked for. He was perfect.  _They_ were perfect. They went out on dates together, went on holiday a few times- even if that meant a shabby caravan in the middle of nowhere- and their families love each other.

                   It was politics that broke them up. Kyle was a firm follower of one party due to the working-class background of his family, but his ex disagreed with their policies and wanted the opposing party in. This caused a lot of arguments and their eventual break-up. Although there were a lot of arguments, there are no hard feelings between each other. They talk like old friends if they see each other. Kyle wonders if he ever thinks about him.

                 As the freezing cold water of the shower hits Kyle's skin, sending a chill down his spine, Kyle cannot help but ask himself:  _is this love?_ But then he reminds himself he's an idiot and of course it is. If it wasn't, his boyfriend wouldn't kiss him, wouldn't have sex with him.

                  But is it sex? Kyle cannot remember consenting last time. Was he drunk? Is that why he didn't? Maybe he did and he just cannot remember it. His boyfriend wouldn't hurt him if he didn't do anything wrong.

His boyfriend loves him. A lot. Right?


	4. Chapter Four

 "Hello, stranger," Kyle is sat in the pub the following day when he hears Dan's familiar voice from in front of him. His, Kyle's, large hands are wrapped around a pint, the coolness chilling his warmth. Kyle looks up and smiles at him, suddenly delightful that not only is Dan here, but Kyle's boyfriend isn't. Last time was humiliating. He doesn't want that again.

                      "Oh, hey," he says, "It's great to see you here again. Are you staying?" 

                       "Yeah- just wait there a second," Dan smiles, walking off to another part of the pub. Kyle cannot see him, so he glances down to his phone and puts it away into his pocket. He hates when he has fresh bruises on his body, he feels like the world is staring at him. He glances around nervously.

                      Dan returns just a few moments later with a man by his side. He looks unfamiliar but he radiates kindness. "Kyle, this is my boyfriend, Will." 

                      Somewhere deep within his core, Kyle is disappointed. He isn't sure why, but, through the friendliness and the awkwardness of their encounters, he knew he longed for him deep down inside of him.

                       "Oh- hi! It's great to meet you, I'm Kyle," the man smiles politely and holds his hand out for Will to shake, which he does. 

                       "I'm Will. Have you been here in the past? I think I've seen you around here before." Will looks at Kyle with curiosity in his eyes. Kyle's heart skips. "Ain't you normally with some bloke?" 

                        Kyle laughs nervously, his voice quiet. "Yeah, he's my fella." He tells him, not wanting to mention the fact that he's home, too drugged up to move. He wants to hide things like that. Things like the abuse. He looks at the couple in front of him, wondering if their relationship is at all like his is.

                         "I don't mean this in any horrible way, but I don't like him. I was here the other day when he slammed his glass down on the table. Does he have any sort of anger issues or something?" He frowns at Kyle. He has seen the man shouting at people before, getting in their faces and screaming them down until they visibly shrunk. He hopes this doesn't reflect Kyle's relationship with him.

             This is the perfect opportunity for Kyle to tell everything that happens, to save himself from this situation. However, Kyle shakes his head. "No, no," he lies, "He's fine with me, I swear."

                  Will, however, isn't wholly convinced, but Kyle looks uncomfortable and he doesn't really want to point fingers if he doesn't know all the details, so he decides not to dig into it, especially in front of Dan.

                  About half an hour and a few drinks later, as the three men sit, drinking, laughing, and enjoying themselves, Kyle's phone buzzes violently on the table, lighting up and showing  _his_ name in the notifications, in front of the picture of Kyle's family that is his lock screen. Sometimes they stop him from sitting too close to the edge. As he looks down at him, Will notes how his face drops significantly. 

                   "I-I gotta go," he says quietly, though he somehow manages to keep a mildly upbeat tone under his words. Both Dan and Will know what has just happened, but neither of them bring it up.

                      Dan brings his eyebrows together, concern in his eyes. "We were having such a good time?" He mumbles, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice."Can't you stay even ten more minutes?" 

                     "I can't. I'm sorry- something has come up, my mum- she needs me," he glances at them, but he knows they both know the truth. He uneasily puts a hand on the table. "I don't know when I'll be back, but it's been really, really great sitting with you both." He rises from his seat and waves to them, before making off for the exit. 

                     Will places a hand gently on Dan's arm, telling him to wait there as he rises and follows Kyle. Just outside the door, he catches up with Kyle.

                      "Kyle," he says softly, grabbing the man's arm as gentle as ever. "You don't have to go back to him," 

                      "It's not like you think it is, Will," the other man is nervous and his hands are shaking. "It's not how it seems-" 

                      "Come with me and Dan and you never have to see him again," 

                       And fuck, it feels so tempting just to say  _please help me, please take me away._

                     "Come on, Kyle. I can see it in you that he's a dick and he hurts you. Just come with us," 

                       But when has Kyle ever been brave enough to do something like that? He could never just walk away. There are so many things that could happen. 

                       "Will, he's not- I'm not, I'm hap- It's just  _not like that."_

                      And Will sighs, somewhat in disappointment that he can't help, and somewhat in defeat as he realises Kyle will never give in. 

                Just take my number. If you need anything, ever, you know where I am. Okay?" 

 

                 Everything feels so broken in the small flat. The walls are broken, the lock on the door is broken, the windows are broken, but more than anything,  _Kyle_ is broken. 

                  He sits on the floor, tears and snot streaming down his face. He can't get his breath back, and it feels like he is drowning in his own blood, which trickles from his nose and mouth, creating a puddle on the floor. Pain is throbbing through his body, his face badly bruised. 

                     His boyfriend's arms are wrapped around him, poison kisses being planted on the top of his head. "Hey, Baby," his voice is toxic, and his breath burns his face. He rubs the man's arm, but perhaps he does it a bit too harsh. "You're okay, look. You're not hurt that bad." 

                          Once more, Kyle is sure he has broken his nose. He continues to sob, hiding his face from the man. "I-I can't breathe," he wheezes, spluttering up blood. 

                           "Yes you can, you're just being dramatic. And don't cry, you know you shouldn't make me angry. It's what you deserve when you go out, talking to other people whilst I'm here," he says quietly, squeezing Kyle slightly. It hurts his ribs. "What if something happened whilst I was alone? What if something had gone wrong with the drugs?" 

                             Kyle paws at his nose to clear it of blood, flicking some across his arm. "Then don't take them," he gasps through his horrible sobs, the blood slowly staining the floor. It wouldn't be the first stain on the linoleum. When his boyfriend's grip tightens more, he knows he has struck another chord to make him angry. This makes him shake more.

                             Suddenly, Kyle is pushed to the ground again, a foot colliding quickly with his stomach so fast that Kyle doesn't even notice what is going on. "Don't ever try fucking telling me what to do," he demands with another harsh kick, this time hitting him the chest. "You should be fucking there for me when I do shit like this, since I do so fucking much for you." 

                                The broken man releases several yelps of pain, suddenly feeling a rising sickness from his stomach. Blood and saliva is pooling on the floor and all the contents of Kyle's stomach join it. His vision begins to blur with each kick, his skin growing paler and paler. 

                                  And that's where he stops. By all means, he will make the man suffer and hurt him, but he will never kill him. Ever.


	5. Chapter Five

 

Dan sighs as he walks into his and Will's appointment, the shorter man trailing just behind his taller boyfriend. "I don't like this entire situation, Will," he says glumly, shaking his head. It has been playing on his heart and on his mind since he began noticing something was wrong. It's all he's been able to think about. "You saw the way he just stood up and left abruptly- after he got a text. There was no reason for him to do that besides from his bo-"

"Dan,  _we don't know that."_ The older man says, perhaps harsher than he should have. He feels guilty about having to say it, but it's not really their situation to get involved in. "I know everything is a bit shitty and something is off, but these allegations are serious, we can't just throw them around or jump to them like that," 

Dan turns around, stopping dead in the entrance of the hallway of their flat and staring at Will. He frowns at the man, "Are you serious?" He asks, looking at him in such a way that Will cannot decide is disgust or just Dan trying to work out if he is being genuine. "You said it yourself, Will! His boyfriend looks like a twat and probably acts as a bigger one! When Kyle and his boyfriend act as they do, I'm going to  _leap_ to these conclusions!" 

The other man shakes his head at Dan's statement, "I don't know, Dan. I reckon Kyle would at least say something if his boyfriend is abusive." 

"What if he's scared?" Dan asks, still somewhat glaring at Will whilst gesturing angrily with his hands. "What if his boyfriend  _is_ abusive and does hurt him, but he's too scared to say anything about it?"

"He's over six foot bloody tall!" Will raises his voice as anger begins to grow inside of him, "He won't  _get_ scared like that. It's just not our business! Let him come to us if he needs our help!" 

Dan turns his back on Will, throwing his arms up as he walks into the main living room of their flat. "Alright, then, Will. So you'd say that to a kid who's being abused?  _If it bothers you so much, say something?"_

"That's not a fair comparison, Dan. Kyle isn't a kid." Will glances around the small, cramped living room in which they stand, glancing at their small pieces of history together. It's a cosy room, usually, but tensions are rising quickly which makes it stuffy and uncomfortable. "Kids can't always speak for themselves..." 

"Yeah, and neither can people with anxiety issues. It paralyses you, Will," the taller man holds his hands in such a way that it mirrors grabbing something, his fingers cramped and eyes fixated on them. "It holds you and you can't breathe, and you get so scared, you can't even fucking move. If your boyfriend is stood over you, beating the ever living fuck out of you, then what do you do?"

Will doesn't say anything but his thoughts are set in stone and Dan knows it.

"I cannot fucking believe you. You know what situation Kyle is in and so do I, you're just too fucking afraid to do any-fucking-thing about it." Dan glares at Will before he shoves him out of the way and storms out of the flat.

He doesn't know why he is so drawn to Kyle, what it is about him that makes him want to protect him, but something constantly tells him he cannot let him get hurt. It scares him beyond what Dan can cope with and the fact he cannot do anything to stop it is worse. His heart hangs forever heavy.

 

Kyle hides away in a different room from his boyfriend and his friends, somehow balancing himself on the windowsill. He has nothing to do, nothing that he can entertain himself with, but being here, away from his boyfriend, is enough. He hates nights like these, the nights where he is confined away from everyone else, staring at the lights of the capital and thinking about everything. He thinks about the bruises on his face, the dried blood which has stained the floor.

He thinks of Dan and Will, wondering what they are doing right now. Are they falling asleep together? Watching a film and living a life that a couple should? It must be good when the love is equal and nobody gets hurt.

Part of him wonders what would happen if he were to jump from this window. Nobody would miss him, realistically, because who has he got? His boyfriend will be relieved and move onto his next victim, Dan and Will will probably have an 'oh, that's sad. Oh well, life goes on' moment and never think of him again, and like his sister said, he's not the same person he used to be. His family wouldn't care.

It's so, so tempting. Then he reminds himself,  _you deserve this._ Is he really a victim when he is just victimising himself? He hates himself for it. If he could do what he was told to do and kept his boyfriend happy, then he wouldn't be getting hurt like he is.

He was so close, yesterday. Lying on the floor, blood surrounded him, the lights just about knocked out of him- yet here he is. He'll never be free from this torture as long as he lives. He hates it.

He wishes it would all end. If that means death, then so be it. Anything is better than this.

 

A few hours pass before Kyle falls asleep, his head lolling against the window and his legs, long as they are, awkwardly hugged against his chest. He dreams of bigger, better things. He dreams of happiness and love, and loving and being loved. Dan keeps popping up in these dreams because he is who Kyle inspires to be one day. In a happy relationship, loved and loving. It's all he wants in life.

His boyfriend enters the room in silence, a few hours after Kyle fell asleep. He watches him sleep against the window, the yellow lights of the city shining against his face. He looks so bruised and hurt, yet so peaceful. It's quite the oxymoron. He doesn't regret anything he has done to the man- like he tells Kyle, he  _deserves_ it. He brings it on himself by being the disobedient dick he is.

He hates Kyle. He really does. He's such a piece of shit who never does what he is told, and he hates him for being that way. He can be laughing one minute, then be quiet and feeling sorry for himself as soon as he opens his mouth. He also goes behind the back of his boyfriend, like going and speaking to that little freak at the pub that time. His boyfriend hates that. If he ever does that again, he swears to God, he will  _murder_ him.

But, oh God, does he love him. He's so easy to throw around and manipulate, and there's a sense of innocence around him, this harmlessness that means he won't ever fight back. He also never means anything he says. When he says no, he's doing it out of spite, so his boyfriend will do it anyway. It's just Kyle being a prick.

Of course, he does legitimately love Kyle, anyway. He's cute, in a way, and can be funny. At one point, he was head over heels for him. That has just been worn down by Kyle over time as he has annoyed him, picking at things he knows will make him explode. He will only ever learn one way.

In his head, he comes to the final conclusion:  _Kyle deserves to be hurt._

So he stalks towards him.


	6. Chapter Six

As Dan plays a few of his songs, some new, in the pub the following days, he notices how much Kyle hasn't been there. He's looked out to the people in the crowd to see if he can see Kyle, finally getting over his nerves to see if he was there.

He has never been.

This only struck concern within the young singer. Concern and anxiety for Kyle made him feel queasy as his mind ventured to what could have happened to cause his sudden disappearance. He hopes the man is still in the area- still  _here._

He doesn't like to think of what his boyfriend could have done. He knows it's a pessimistic thought, but he can't help it, because, let's be realistic, it's always possible. 

After the argument with Will, he decided to head back two days later. He was pissed, but he apologised to Will and Will apologised back, and, in silence, they held each other, stopping the spinning world for just a few moments, but it was enough. The feelings between them, the knowledge, was mutual.

No matter what he did, his mind drifted back to Kyle. He wishes he knew what was going off because he worries that he is overthinking it completely. He's frightened that Kyle may have just had a family issue which needed sorting out, even though that would be a much better situation. Maybe his boyfriend is just stressed and overprotective? 

Dan knows he shouldn't care this much.

But Dan's thoughts are wrong, anyway. Kyle wishes that Dan knew what was actually going on in a way, so he could help him, tell him that everything would be okay and escape this life so everything will get better. The other half of him wishes that he could just be forgotten about. He isn't important. He isn't worth it. Dan should waste his time on him.

 

 

The hurt man looks in the mirror of the dirty bathroom, ignoring the crack through the centre of the glass. He traces his fingers over the black and yellows of his bruises on his swollen skin, playing with it like one would toy with any other bruise, perhaps one with more innocent. There is a trail of blood from his nose and mouth, a slight gash near his eye from where he presumes his boyfriend's ring got him. He couldn't stay conscious after what happened last night, so he hasn't had the chance to wash his face.

God. What the fuck did he ever do to deserve any of this? He was asleep when he was pulled from the windowsill and he crashed to the floor before being beaten half to death. Was he snoring? Was he asked to do something that he ignored?  _What did he do?_

He repeats the question in his head as he timidly presses wet fingers to his face, trying to wipe away the blood, frowning at the way he looks. He hates his face, the way he looks, especially with dried blood, bruises, and scabs covering his face. He looks  _disgusting-_ how could anybody ever love him?

 _"KYLE!"_ His boyfriend shouts, cutting through all the noise of the flat, shaking the walls and silencing everything, even the rats in the walls. Kyle wonders if the neighbours have heard them- they must have at some point. "Get in here!" 

Kyle's stomach drops as if it weighs a thousand tonnes, and his hands begin to shake. If he doesn't go, he knows he will get hurt. But he's terrified.

He repeats the question in his head as he timidly presses his fingers to his face. He hates the way he looks, especially with dried blood, bruises, and scabs on his face. He looks disgusting- how could anyone ever love him?

 _"KYLE!"_ His boyfriend yells, cutting through all the noise that the flat creates, shaking the walls and silencing everything. Kyle wonders if the neighbours can hear. "Get in here!" 

Kyle's stomach drops as if it weighs a thousand tonnes, and his hands begin to shake. If he doesn't go, he knows he'll get hurt, but he's terrified.

His boyfriend is stood in the entrance of the flat, which has a wall with a fist-sized hole in it, which narrowly avoided Kyle's face some months ago. His boyfriend has a frown on his face, glaring at Kyle when the young, shaking, bruised boy comes into view. The frown deepens, his eyes set in stone.

Kyle doesn't speak to his boyfriend as he glances at him, quickly making eye contact and then looking back at the floor. He's so tall yet his frame makes him appear so small in this moment. He looks like a child.

"We're going out," he says quickly, throwing a jacket at Kyle with more force than is appropriate. "Wash your face. Get ready." 

Kyle shakes his head, his voice merely a mumble as he still refuses to make eye contact. He's terrified, and it feels like his chest his being held tightly, so much so that he cannot breathe. 

"Use your words, Kyle,"  _he_ says, before dropping his voice into a growl, "Use your  _words."_

"I, I can't go out," 

His boyfriend shakes his head, sighing. "Why  _'can't you go out'?"_ He asks, stepping towards Kyle. Kyle steps backwards as he is forcefully guided to the bathroom. Before he even reaches him, however, Kyle flinches.

"Look at my face," he whispers, still not looking up. "People will ask questions. I can't wash off this," 

"Then let them ask these fucking questions. You know as well as I do, you deserve what you get."

 

They cleared off to the pub after Kyle washed the blood off of his face, using an oversized hoodie to cover the rest of it, with his hood up. It hangs off of his frame as if he was never even there in the first place. It would look better on a coat hanger.

"That little weirdo is here again, that one you were fuckin' talking to." 

They sit at their regular table, Kyle slumped almost lifelessly in his seat as if he were dead. He's not even willing to look in the general direction of where his boyfriend is looking.

"I wasn't talking to him," Kyle insists, keeping his voice low so nobody can hear. When his boyfriend just glares at him, he looks down, not having the guts to maintain eye contact.

"You need to learn how to control your damn mouth, Kyle." His boyfriend's tone is harsh and the words spit with venom. Kyle glances quickly at Dan, who is sat with somebody else, who is not Will, at another table, and confirms his fear that he looking. "You really sit there wondering why you have all these bruises on your face? You deserve this, Kyle. You deserve it." 

Kyle just nods, fiddling with a loose string on the cuffs of his hoodie. He doesn't speak anymore.

"You're a fucking liar, Kyle. You're nothing more than a fucking  _liar."_ His boyfriend stands up and the chair legs scrape against the floor, creating a sound that not only grabs everybody's attention but makes Kyle feel sick with worry and fear. "I'm going home. I can't be bothered to put up with a piece of shit like you. Come back home when you've sorted yourself out." 

The man storms off and out of the pub, oblivious to the silence around him. Kyle notices it, though. He hears everybody awkwardness, sees them watching him but trying not to make eye contact, feeling the stuffiness. He just sits in his seat, hiding his face as tears begin to fall down his face.

"Kyle," a voice says quietly, so gentle compared to that of the man sat there previously. The man, who Kyle knows to be Dan, takes his hand away from his face, trying not to show the surprise of seeing fresh bruises and swollen patches of broken skin. He can't even bear to look at him. "Kyle, look at me," 

Kyle just shakes his head, closing his eyes tight. He knows people are watching them." 

"Come on, Ky. Just look at me. Please? I really want to talk to you." 

Gingerly, Kyle opens his eyes and looks into Dan's own eyes, stifled sobs escaping him. He glances at other people, who, when he sees them, all look away.

"Do you trust me?" Dan asks quietly, leaning at an angle so the table, sticky with alcohol, supports his chest, and he can look up into Kyle's eyes. The other boy nods- at this point, anyone who shows him any act of kindness is trustworthy in his books. "Come on, follow me. I want to take you somewhere that makes me happy."

 

On the way out, Dan asked the barman that if the same man came back in looking for Kyle, please don't tell him that they left together. The barman, watching Kyle concern, agreed. 

Dan takes Kyle to a field full of flowers, hidden away from the general hustle and bustle of life in London. It isolates them from their problems, perhaps Kyle more so than Dan, but it helps nonetheless. 

"You weren't with Will today," Kyle says quietly, trying to change the subject. He knows he won't be able to avoid it, but if he can prolong it, then so be it.

"No, things weren't working out with us. Things had been rocky for a while, and we both know it wasn't going too well, so we decided to call it quits." Dan shrugs. It had been a mutual agreement that, whilst it hurt, definitely, there was no mess. "No bad blood between us or anything. We're still friends and shit, he's just moving out." 

Kyle glances to him, pulling his legs to his chest and hugging them. He still has his hood up. "Sorry to hear about that," 

"It's just one of those things. Would've happened on good terms or not." They're sat in long, green grass, Dan with his legs crossed. He glances at Kyle, "You know that's not why we're here though." 

"Yeah, I know." 

There's a silence.

"He hits you, doesn't he?" 

Another.

"He does." 

"Bad?" 

Kyle tries to laugh, but it doesn't really come out that way. "Look at my face, Dan." Kyle takes his hood down and shows the man his face properly- his bust lip, black eye, swollen skin- even though he has already seen it. "Look how ugly he makes it. Two hours ago it was covered in dried blood."

Dan inspects the marks on Kyle's face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. He can't help but fixate on them, even though it must make Kyle feel awful.

"Dan-" 

The man's sentence is cut short as Dan leans forward, planting his own lips to Kyle's, giving him a long, hard kiss. 

Everything feels weird for Kyle. There is a passion, a love underlying the kiss that Kyle has never felt before, a warmth beginning to grow in him. For a moment, he lets himself melt into the kiss, but then he realises why he can't do this.

"Dan," he says, begrudgingly pushing the boy away. "I can't do this. He'll kill me if he finds out." 

"No he won't, Kyle, he won't-" 

"Don't feed me all of that bullshit that he won't, Dan. Please don't start. When he hit me the first time, I told myself that he wouldn't do it again. Look at me, man. He's broken me. If he finds out we've kissed... I'm a goner." 

Dan lets his hand hold Kyle's cheek, holding gently so he won't press any of the bruises. 

"I won't let him, Kyle. Leave it to me, and I promise I will make sure he can never hurt you again." Dan says, staring into his eyes. 

Then they share another short kiss.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading this and giving it kudos! I really appreciate it. Remember, comments are always welcome! 
> 
> Moreover, I forgot to add indents into the previous two chapters. Ignore that, Rookie mistake! ;)

          "Please don't go back to him, Kyle," Dan had whispered to the man as they lounged around together, toying with each other's hands (well, Dan toying with fractured, displaced fingers of Kyle's), subconsciously just being sat basically on top of each other as they spoke for hours and hours about their untold stories, their pasts and histories. Their newly found relationship- if you could call it that- had put Dan into a state of bliss, but Kyle was in a state of hidden stress, one he would never reveal to Dan. "Come on, Love. Come back with me. You can't get hurt at my place. For my sake and your own,  _please."_

          Kyle had refused, shaking his head. It's not as easy as people think it is. "I can't, Dan," he had told with a heavy heart, his mind already worrying over what will happen when he goes back home. "He'll still find me. He knows where my family live, he'll go there, he'll wait for me. Act nice and then turn when doors are closed. I can't put them through that." 

          Dan had sighed, bit his lip and closed his eyes. The two of them had exchanged mountains of personal information in the last three hours whilst they had been in the field that they both felt very close to each other. Sometimes, the secrets they told had never been said aloud, and sometimes it was uncomfortable to tell them, other times funny.

          "I wish you could," he sighed as he rubbed Kyle's back. There were so many marks on his torso, arms, neck, and face that he had revealed to Dan that evening that the singer couldn't help but feel anything but pity for him- and Kyle didn't want that at all. "I could show you so much more, Kyle." 

         "I wish I could, too. I deserve this, though,"  

         Part of Dan was about to shout at Kyle, but he quickly realised that shouting may not help at all. "No you don't," he said softly, "You know you don't- deep down, in your heart somewhere. You know that all of these marks, all of this pain, all the embarrassing moments and the trauma he has caused is for no reason. He's abusive, Kyle, a bag of fucking shit, and you know that. He has brainwashed you,  _conditioned_ you into thinking you are nothing." 

         "I  _am_ nothing. I am nothing at all in all the world.

          "That is not true." Dan had refused to accept the man's words as he shook his head. Anger began to spread through him, suffocating and smothering any other emotions. He wished Kyle knew exactly what he felt towards him, even if part of him was angry that he has been fed all these lies and Kyle believes them.

          "It is though. Honestly, Dan, if you weren't in the pub today and he had killed me or something the other night, who would have cared? No one would have known what had happened. He could have lied and say we just broke up and I left. My family all I say I've changed too much, so they wouldn't care. I'm nothing. Nobody would care if I died here." 

         Dan doesn't know what to say as his mind races to think of something. "It would break me, Kyle. And that's from knowing you from just recently." There is a pause. "Let me, Kyle. Let me show you so much more. I could show you how somebody, a fucking person should be treated." 

        Another long pause.

        "Show me, then." 

        "What?" 

        "Show me a better love." 

 

        "Where have you been?"  _He_ demands when Kyle walks back through the door of the flat, almost as if Kyle had walked off and  _he_ hadn't left Kyle in the pub.

        "You told me to come back later," the man whispers quietly, too scared to speak in a normal tone. Whereas he feels his time with Dan has been the best time of his recent life, he was so worried about coming back here, worrying about what would be done to him when he got back into these four walls. He wishes he never had to do this, but not doing it would put his entire family at risk, too. Even if he feels they don't care about him, Kyle cares about them and he refuses to put them through it.

       "I expected you to fucking follow me like the damn dog you are- you weren't even there when I went back. Where were you, Kyle?  _Who were you with?" He_ takes a heavy step towards Kyle, who pushes himself back against the door. Fear controls his body, and once more, he feels like he cannot breathe. "Were you with that weirdo?" 

       "H-he left shortly after you did..." He stutters, looking at the floor. He holds his shaking hands in front of him, holding them together at the wrists. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for taking so long to get home-" 

       "It's not fucking good enough, Kyle!" Grabbing Kyle by the throat,  _he_ roars at him, getting in his face about it. "It's really not good enough. For  _fucks_ sake, look at you, stood there like a castrated dog damn near pissing yourself!" 

        The younger man begins to shake as he is forced against the door, his boyfriend's body pushed against his own and holding him in place.

       "Where did you go, Kyle, huh?" He says quietly, staring straight into Kyle's eyes. "I said: Where the  _fuck_ did you go?!" 

         _He_ presses against Kyle harder, making tears in his eyes. In a sickening way, something about it pleases  _him-_ fuck, it about turns him on.

        _"KYLE!"_

        "I was just in fucking town, I don't know!" Kyle yelps at the pressure from his boyfriend, his voice almost a scream, just like  _his_ was. "I'm sorry! I just went wherever!" 

         At this point, Kyle is thrown to the floor, and  _he_ sits on top of him, right over his stomach, which means Kyle wants both, to be sick, and to  _breathe._ "If I ever find out you've been with that little fucking twat that you were eyeing up in the pub, I will murder you. Mark my bastard words- you will be dead faster than you think. And you think anyone will miss you? We'll all be fucking relieved when you're gone." 


	8. Chapter Eight

          Kyle's hands are shaking as he holds the phone, tears streaming down his face. Fear courses through him and controls his movements. 

           "I'm so scared, Dan," he stammers out, closing his eyes tight. It's been a few days since he was thrown to the floor, and he can still feel the consequences of it. His boyfriend has disappeared for a little bit, off to his friend's house, probably to do more drugs. He can only guess that is what they are doing. "He's going to kill me." 

           Whilst he is not there, Dan also feels scared for the other man, his heart in his throat and his stomach twisting in knots. It has dropped far past his feet. 

           "He won't, Ky..." He says, but he cannot really say he is entirely convinced himself. "Just, can you  _please_ come to my place?  _Please,_ come here. It's safe here." 

           Kyle shakes his head, although he knows Dan cannot see him. "I'm not safe anywhere, Dan. He is going to be the reason I die." His voice is barely audible through the sobs breaking his body. The sound, the situation,  _everything,_ it all breaks Dan's heart.

            "Where are you, Kyle? Tell me your address, I'll come over." Dan moves from leaning against the wall of his living room, next to one of the plants they have somehow kept alive, to the entrance of the flat where all the coats and shoes are. A few of Will's coats are still hanging up.

            "No!" Kyle says quickly, stubbornly. He uses a balled up fist to wipe his eyes, feeling like a child. "He might come home, Dan, you're putting yourself in danger- I'm, I'm not worth it." 

             The other man sighs. He wants to moan at Kyle for saying that, to tell him he is worth everything and then some more; he wants to defy Kyle, to go anyway and take him away from the situation. That would be a love story to tell, to be his knight in shining armour, but that's never going to happen. He has no idea where Kyle lives, and, Kyle is right. He is putting himself in danger- he could never hold his own against Kyle's boyfriend. He just wishes he could take him away and give him a better life, a better love. "Kyle?" 

               Heavy footsteps are echoing up the stairs outside the flat and Kyle feels as if he really cannot breathe. "Hmm?" 

                "I love you." He says quietly, abruptly, resting his arm against the wall and leaning his head against it. "I really do, and I know that's stupid but I want all that is best for you and I kno-" 

                 Kyle mumbles a quick apology to Dan as he hears the front door open and quickly hangs up, feeling as sick as a dog. 

                 Is this what love actually is? It loves really wanting what is best for your partner as opposed to hurting them and putting them down?

                 He rushes to put his phone in his pocket and pretend to sleep. It's the only way he gets a chance of safety.

                  When the door to the bedroom opens, there is silence. Kyle's heart thumps in his chest and he wonders what may happen next.

 

                   Dan is distressed. He sits on the sofa in his flat with his head in his hands, sobbing. He feels sick from crying so much and he's pretty sure if he doesn't stop, he'll have a nosebleed soon. He just prays that Kyle is okay.

                   

                   He just wants him to be safe. Even if that means Kyle does not return his love or if it means that Kyle has to leave, then so be. He deserves so much more than this.

                   Really, he can only think of how Kyle must feel about this. He can only imagine the pain he is subjected to on a daily basis. How can he put up with the piece of shit boyfriend he has? He wonders what made Kyle fall in love with him in the first place.

                   The following day, rough as Hell, Dan heads to the pub. He hopes to see Kyle there, but given the abrupt ending to their conversation yesterday, he knows he should've known better. He clocks Kyle's boyfriend and is full of rage as the man laughs carelessly.

                    Did he leave Kyle at home? Beat him half to death and then leave him there to die? That's probably something he would do. Perhaps Kyle isn't even breathing right now. He has to quickly sit down as he begins to feel sick.

                     _You okay?x_ He texts Kyle, praying for an answer.

                      _Yeah. Can't go out x_

Dan frowns at the text as the conversation goes on- his boyfriend says he can't go out, so he can't. And if he does, he'll probably come home early and see him gone, thus getting angry. Dan is disgusted at the idea of somebody being attacked for simply going out.

                      _What's your address?x_ He hopes he can head over there before  _he_ leaves, wherever  _there_ may be.

                     Kyle texts back his address, but seconds after Dan's phone buzzes,  _he_ stands up.

 

                     Kyle's boyfriend didn't hurt him the other day. He stood at the door for a few moments and then walked away, unlike he ever has done before. There wasn't a kick, a punch, any pain. There was nothing.

                      But this made him paranoid. He had already memorised everyone's number so he didn't have to have any contacts besides his boyfriends, this way he can't get into trouble. He sat and deleted all the texts to everyone and anyone, even if it was to his mum or to his sister. He knows his boyfriend goes through all of his stuff so he doesn't keep anything that could get him hurt.

                       He learnt that lesson a while ago.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

             Dan and Kyle are behind a building somewhere that they didn't quite take notice of as Kyle saw one of his boyfriend's friends walking up the street. Their lips are planted on each other, hands searching up the sides of t-shirts and heavy breaths filling the silence between kisses. Kyle can feel his eyes stinging, and so can Dan.

            "Kyle, I love you so much," Dan pants, holding the back of Kyle's head to keep his face close to his own. He can feel Kyle's hot, shaky breaths against his skin, and something about it drives him crazy. He moves to plant his lips on Kyle's neck.

             "I love you too, Dan," Kyle says with a dopey smile on his face. Although he lives his life in danger and a constant state of anxiety, whenever he is with Dan it feels so much easier. Everything is better with Dan.

             "No, I really do, Kyle. Honestly, I love you." Dan tells him as Kyle pulls away from the kiss. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." 

              Kyle sighs, biting his lip. "Dan, you know we can't do that... You know we can never do that..." 

             "That's not true, Ky. We can do this. You just need to... You need to leave him." There is a small space between them now, but they're still quite close. "You need to get away from him." 

             His heart drops, knowing that Kyle is digging himself a deeper grave. The more he tells himself he can never get out of it, the less chance he will actually have of getting out.

             "You could just come home with me. Then you'll never have to see him again. If he went to your family's house, then they could just call the police." There's a little bit of hope beginning to spark within Dan as he speaks, staring into Kyle's eyes. "You can finally be safe. You can finally be happy." 

           "That's not how it'll play out, Dan. Just trust me when I say it's harder than that. He'll find me and he'll- you know what." Kyle says, toying with the man's fingers. "I love you, Dan. I shouldn't love you when I'm with him, but I do."

 

           Kyle heads into the flat knowing that it's not going to go well. The four walls contain him like a prison cell, forcing him to face his enemy.

           "Where have you been?" He demands, "I fucking told you not to go out, and you did anyway!" His voice is a roar as his fist collides with the wall, putting yet another hole in it. Kyle flinches in fear. 

            "I was at my mum's house, I swear!" He says in a panic, his voice stumbling. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew!" 

             "Now I know you're definitely a liar," the floor pounds as he walks across the room, storming towards Kyle. "I went to your fucking mum's house and she didn't know where you were." 

            A smirk spreads across his face as Kyle falls silent, his lip quivering. He's terrified right now. Could tonight be the end of all things?

            "Where were you, Kyle? Where did you go? Who were you with?"The man quizzes Kyle as he grabs ahold of him, slamming him up against the wall. "Give me your phone. Right now." 

            Kyle is paralysed from fear, he can't move to get his phone. Instead, his boyfriend just grabs it out of his pocket and puts his passcode in- Kyle had no choice but to give it to him when he started monitoring everything he did.

             "Who's number is this?" He shows the phone to Kyle, revealing Dan's number in his text logs. "You've been deleting the texts? Who was it, Kyle?!" 

              "It was my cousin," Kyle tries to explain himself, still trying to shield himself from his boyfriend. "I swear to God, it was my cousin."

               "Why have you been deleting the texts, then? Huh?" Kyle's boyfriend throws the phone across the room but accidentally presses the call button. "Kyle! Fucking answer me!" 

 

                Dan picks up his phone and doesn't even get a chance to say hello before shouting comes through the other side, violent shouts followed by screams of pain that Dan doubts he'll ever be able to forget. They make him feel sick.

                Without hesitating, he runs to the door and puts his shoes on, leaving himself without a coat and in just a t-shirt, before sprinting across the city to Kyle and his boyfriend's apartment. He also calls 999 so the police can get there before he does.

              He passes the pub where he and Kyle first met, dreading that they may never get a chance to go there again if Kyle isn't okay. His worse fear is that he's not here anymore. 

             The apartment block comes into sight and there are flashing lights of police cars at the bottom of it, which slightly relieves Dan. At least Kyle might be safe, now...

             He hopes.


	10. Chapter Ten

            Kyle knows that this is it, now. He knows that tonight is his last night on this planet- after this, all he will be is a name to be forgotten. The thought of death used to scare him- the unknown and all that, but after all this pain, all this fear, all this suffering, he welcomes it. He welcomes the idea of it.

            The first time he was thrown to the floor by his boyfriend, and he felt the constant beating of fists down on his skin, he screamed. He screamed, he cried, he begged for it all to stop. At one point, he tried to get away, but that only made everything worse.

            But he's too tired to make a noise, now. He's too tired to try anything. What's the point in fighting it, anyway? It's going to happen no matter what he does. All he will be doing is prolonging the inevitable. No matter how hard he tries, it's still there. It will always be there.

            He lies this way for a while, staring straight up ahead of him with eyes that seem lifeless. When he was growing up, his mother always told him his eyes were full. Full of love, full of life, full of ambition and curiosity. Everything has faded, ripped away from him by the hands of the man who is supposed to love him.

            Kyle looks so lifeless that his boyfriend wonders if he's gone, but he's so angry that he doesn't stop. He doesn't care if he is- how he  _ever dares_ to talk to anyone behind his back, especially after the number of times he was told not to do so, is completely beyond him. At this point, Kyle deserves everything he gets. Even death.

            As the beating continues and blood spills down Kyle's face, small cuts forming on his body from the rings on his boyfriend's fingers, large blossoming bruises forming on his pale, grey skin, the door bursts open and there are loud shouts. Kyle doesn't really know what's going on as he slowly closes his eyes, his boyfriend ripped from him. Finally,  _finally,_ he gets a break.

            "Are you okay?" Someone asks Kyle as the room is suddenly full of life, shouting and chaos filling the air. The person is directly above him, and he opens his eyes but everything is blurry so he can't quite make out their face. "Do you need an ambulance?" 

            As he pulls himself up, his legs shaking like that of a newborn baby deer, he almost falls straight over. He has to stumble over to the broken counter, with a little support from the stranger watching over him, before he can finally find his words and his thoughts.

           He shakes his head and covers his face with his hands as everything comes crashing down on him and he can hear everything clearly. His boyfriend is shouting and cursing and so are the police. An arm is wrapped around his shoulders although he doesn't know who it belongs to.

           "Here, you're alright. We're here, he's going. He can't hurt you," she tells Kyle, rubbing his back. "I really think you need an ambulance, though. There's one outside." 

           "N-no," Kyle can only mumble, feeling like he's about to collapse. How has everything changed so quickly? Thirty seconds ago he swore he was about to die.

            His boyfriend is taken away and Kyle is attended to by medics. There are a lot of bloodied tissues and wipes being pressed against his face and lying on the floor, and he just lets them work, not really knowing anything.

           "Please let me in!" Someone shouts from the doorway, " _Please_ , I know him. His name is Kyle and- oh for the love of-  _I CALLED YOU!"_

           "Sir, we can't-" 

           "Is Dan here?" Kyle asks with alarm in his tone, looking over at the door, which is blocked by a police officer. He just wants Dan to hold him, to tell him that it's okay, that he's safe now. He just wants Dan. But... He can't let Dan see him like this. He's at his worst.

           "Kyle, it's me. Please tell them," Dan says, even if he can't see Kyle and Kyle can't see him. He just wants to hold Kyle. 

           When he is allowed in, he runs straight to Kyle and wraps him up in his arms, trying not to show his surprise at the whole situation. He knew it was bad, but he didn't realise it was  _that_ bad.

           "Hey, you're okay now. Look, I'm here," Dan whispers, holding Kyle tightly in his arms. "I'm here, now. You're safe. You can come back to mine and he can't get you and we can be  _happy."_

           Kyle just nuzzled his head into Dan's neck, Dan ignoring the slight dampness from the blood, the tears, everything. All that matters is that Kyle is in his arms, safe, breathing,  _alive._


	11. Chapter Eleven

             Kyle kept his head buried in Dan's neck as his boyfriend was removed by force from their flat, screaming and swearing up a storm and promising to kill the two men ("Especially you, Kyle! You filthy fucking cunt!"), and although Dan didn't believe him, he knew he would never lay a hand on Kyle ever again, but Kyle wasn't so convinced. He had feared to look at the man again, to let him see all the damage he had caused, the defeat he had forced upon Kyle. He refused to be defeated like that again and swore that this was his turning point. He'll be damned if he ignores it.

             "We need to talk about tonight," one of the two police officers left asks Kyle. There are only the four of them left in the room, which is a large contrast to the large group that was once there. Dan and Kyle are sat next to each other, Dan watching the man in worry and the other man crying, and the two police officers are sat opposite. "What happened?" 

 _What does it look like happened?_ Dan wants to ask. It's pretty clear what happened, if you ask him, so why make him suffer some more and make him articulate it? But he decides it's best not to speak up. The two officers look friendly, and it looks as if they have Kyle's health and wellbeing within their best interests.

              In stuttering, stumbling words, Kyle explains what had happened, how he had come in and been interrogated by his boyfriend and the consequences that followed. He revealed his bruises, the scars, the marks that were left on Kyle from the hands and feet of his boyfriend.

              "Was this the first time?" The female officer asks, her voice calm and gentle. There is something rather motherly about her, but it's slightly patronising in Kyle's opinion. He's a grown man, beaten down in such a violent way. Perhaps, if he were more manly, he thinks, he could have protected himself.

               Kyle shakes his head. "Most days," he admits in a choke, casting his eyes down to the floor. Everything about him- from the way he sits, one arm tucked into his stomach and the other grasping his knee, nearly tucked into himself to hide his insecurities- screams depression and horror, and Dan wishes it would all stop for him. His eyes are so lifeless, so hopeless, and what's worse is the look in them that suggests he has given up. "He would question me about everything. I couldn't lie- he, he knew. Went to my mum's house to see if I was there, wanted to know where I was at all times. He had full, full control over me." 

                "What about your phone? Did he look through that?" 

                "Yeah- I couldn't save any numbers or anything, he always wanted to know who they were. My phone- it's over there, somewhere. Probably in a few pieces." 

                "Is this worse than anything he's done before?" 

                The man, broken and bruised, can't trust his voice enough to talk, so he just nods. He was never convinced that his time was up, that he would die at the hands of his lover, but tonight? Tonight, he truly believed he was going to die.

                 The questioning continued as the police tried to gain as much information as possible. They asked Kyle if he had anywhere to stay for the night, anywhere that isn't the flat, already run down and without much furniture, but now covered in blood and taped off by the police. Dan jumped in at this point, telling Kyle he was always welcome to stay in his flat. They requested that Kyle go down to the police station tomorrow to get evidence from him (which would be pictures) when he was in less shock.

                  Dan took Kyle back to his own flat. He was surprised to see how much blood was on the floor- they had wanted him to go to the hospital, but Kyle just wouldn't. He wouldn't because he was sick of being hurt, and if anything hurt the next day or was seriously wrong then he would go.

                  He holds Kyle in bed that night, wrapped his sore, bruised in his arms, holding him gently, "I'm so glad you're here Kyle," he whispers quietly, tears in his own eyes as they lie in darkness. Kyle is clinging to him like a lost child. "I'm glad you're safe." 

                   "I thought I was gonna die," Kyle is in such a weird state of mind- everything hurts and everything is unclear. He has no idea what is to come next. All he knows is that Dan will be by his side, loving him, keeping him safe, and protect him from here on out.

                    "I didn't know what to do, Kyle- as soon as I worked it out, I wanted to do something, but I just-" 

                     "It's fine, Dan," the scabbed marks are itchy beneath the long sleeved shirt and pyjama bottoms, but he wears them so the bruises on his arms and legs are covered. He and Dan are lying in such a way that they are pressed together chest to chest, their legs nothing more than a tangled mess. Dan is lying further up, though, so he can rest his head on Kyle's. "I never told you." 

                    "But I knew, Kyle. We all knew... We just failed you. All of us." Dan sighs, running his hand around the back of Kyle's head. 

                     "How so? I tried to hide it."

                     "We all knew what was going on, from the way he screamed at you in the pub, from the bruises that covered you all the time. It was obvious, yet it took until he was beating you to death for someone to do something. And I'm blaming myself, too. I knew. I should have stepped in sooner." 

                      Dan shifts and Kyle moves with him, but he draws in a sharp breath of pain. "Fuck! Watch my ribs," he gasps, putting a hand over them.

                       "We'll go to the hospital in the morning and get them looked at."

                        "Okay." 

                        "I love you, Kyle. This is it. It doesn't feel like it, but this is the start to your future. This is the beginning of your happiness." Dan tells him, kissing his lips.

                        But it all feels a little rushed. This time three hours ago, he thought he was going to die, now he's kissing Dan in his bed.


	12. Chapter Twelve

             When they went the next day, the hospital confirmed that Kyle had broken two of his ribs. They also told him that there's a lot of internal bruising which will cause a lot of discomforts, but there's nothing they can do apart from giving him painkillers. Although he knows it already, Kyle is constantly reminded of how lucky he is it wasn't more. He's lucky he's breathing. 

             The police took a lot of pictures of Kyle's body, and the marks, cuts, and bruises that decorate his body. They took a statement from him, asking him the simple questions to begin with; do you feel safe around him, do you feel that he is a danger? But as they got on, the questions became gradually complex and even slightly offensive: Do you feel you have done anything to antagonise him? Do you blame yourself?

             Dan didn't go in with him- Kyle felt anxious and insecure, so he offered to stay outside so he didn't have to lay everything out plain for Dan to see. So when he came out, looking slightly sick and deep in thought, Dan felt guilty and decided to treat Kyle. He knows that he won't be feeling up to doing much, he probably just wants to hide himself away, so a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream will do the job.

            "Do you want to go to a park or something?" He asks, glancing at Kyle, who has his hood pulled far over his head to hide from the world. Whereas Kyle wants to hide from everything, Dan wants to watch him blossom. After all, it is turning warm now, and flowers are beginning to bloom. Maybe it's also Kyle's time.

             But the man next to him shakes his head in refusal, staring at the ground. "With a face like this?" He mutters bitterly, "Think I'll pass." 

             "Hey, I think you have a nice face. I mean, it's a bit battered and bruised at the moment, but it's still nice."

             On his face, there is a hint of a smile as Kyle turns his head in a slight bashfulness. "I don't want people to stare, Dan. I don't want people to stare, or asking me. The fact that they just sit there and  _stare,_ all the wordless judgements they make, the whispers. It fucking sucks." 

             In some ways, Dan can relate to what Kyle is saying. He has battled anxiety for the majority of his life, and the feeling of people staring at him, judging him has been present for a long as he can remember, even if it is not true.

           "Yeah," he doesn't really want to say that he knows how Kyle feels, because the two situations are completely different. "Do you want to go to that field? It's a bit quieter, there. We can just chill out." 

           Kyle nodded at that.

 

           "I do love you." Dan says, letting Kyle lie on his chest just as they did last night. He has his arm wrapped protectively around him, letting him cuddle into Dan as much as he wants to. He's proud of the boy for being so strong to last until now. At least he can let his guard down, now.

           "I'm damaged, Dan," Kyle replies, still feeling pretty blue. He doesn't understand how anyone can love him, especially now. 

           "It doesn't matter. Damaged things can still be worth a lot. Damaged people are definitely still worth the world, no matter what." Dan takes Kyle's hand in his own and kisses it, before taking a single daisy from the ground next to him and tucking it into Kyle's hair. "You're still worth a lot. Sometimes... Sometimes things happen to people without their consent or knowledge, and sometimes it cannot be stopped. Sometimes we think we love people we don't because we've been forced to love them. It's a strange way of working but it can't be helped. I love you, and I love you more than I have loved everyone because there is something special about you. There is a charming, bright, happy man behind the one currently showing himself to me, and I just can't wait to meet him." 

           Kyle smiles, tears in his eyes. It feels weird for somebody to speak so kindly and lovingly towards him that he's not sure how it makes him feel. Part of him is beyond happy, but he can't help but feel that it's all an act, that it's all fake just to make him feel better.

           "You're just saying that..." He mumbles, closing his eyes. He smiles as Dan places more daisies in his hair. "You don't mean it." 

           "But I do, Kyle! I really, really do. I think you're great! I just have to properly meet you. The real you that I'm sure you miss, too. I'm sure your family hold a very different image of you. Would you like to go and see them?" 

           Kyle nods. "I think my sister doesn't like me. I don't blame her much- I let him control me. I was gullible and stupid-" 

           "And you thought you were in love. Love can turn the smartest man stupid." Dan rubs Kyle's arm, trying to make him feel better. "I love you, so just remember that." 

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

              In the Simmons' household kitchen, Mrs Simmons holds Kyle, wrapping him up in a bear hug. She still holds him like a child even though he is twice her height. Dan, who is hovering awkwardly by the door, feels somehow at home yet out of place at the same time.

              "Is he gone, Ky?" Comes her quiet, almost whispering voice. She is rubbing Kyle's back in a comforting manner. No matter how hard she tried, she could not help or advise Kyle. After all, he is in his twenties and she cannot control him anymore. When he came home with bruises, she sat him down and told him how it was, what his boyfriend was doing to him and how unfair and horrible it was. He listened, though refused to believe her. He told her everything was his fault, his problem, and his issue to sort out. He was old enough to take care of it himself, he had told her.

               He knew he was in the wrong, that his boyfriend  _was_ a bit of a cunt, and so did his mum, but he just left after that conversation. He said goodbye, gave her a hug and left. They didn't see each other for a few weeks after that.

              The tall man feels like a child right now, but that doesn't bother him at all. He needs his mum's love, comfort, and support right now. He needs her there- he should've listened to her and he hates himself for not. He could have avoided all of this had he done so.

             "He's gone, Mama," he has tears in his eyes and his voice is weak. They're tears of relief, though, not of remorse, although he cannot deny how much regret there is. He regrets ever being in a relationship with the man in the first place- that's something he has to learn from. He is free, now.  _Finally free._ "He's finally gone." 

            There is silence once more as the mother and son just stands there and hug, holding each other in the kitchen of the family home. This is what Kyle needs right now, though, and they all know it. He needs the calm after such a horrendous storm. There is a small time of peace before they will be called back to the police station, and Dan just wants Kyle to be as happy as possible.

            Dan continues to stand, hovering by the door, smiling at the scene playing out in front of him. He thinks Kyle is amazing- yes, even after he has been beaten down so horribly. He loves him and he's so happy his family is being supportive- at least he can take refuge here as well as at Dan's flat.

            Mrs Simmons lets go, turning her attention to the young singer by the door, smiling politely at him. "Who's this, then?" She asks.

            "Oh, this is Dan!" Kyle smiles- he feels a little bit uneasy introducing Dan as his boyfriend considering everything that has happened-  _but then, are they officially a thing anyway?-_ He looks at Dan who just smiles, "We've been friends for a little while. He's so cool!" 

 

             Mrs Simmons had made Dan feel right at home, even offering to cook them a meal (which Kyle accepted before Dan could even do so much as open his mouth. He can't remember the last time he ate, nevermind a proper meal), and he really began to feel accepted. He met Kyle's siblings and even his dad, who were all as welcoming as each other. 

             "Kyle, are you staying the night?" Mrs Simmons asks, appearing in the doorway of Kyle's bedroom, where he and Dan are attempting to balance on the single bed whilst watching the small TV on the dresser on the other side of the room- Kyle had bought one for if he ever stayed over, perhaps on better days like these.

            Kyle looks at Dan. "Do you have to go back home?" He questions the other boy, who is pushed up against the wall. He just shakes his head. "Yeah, guess we could stay here." 

            "Okay. I'm glad to have you home again, Kyle," she smiles, her face lighting up. She feels lighter since the weight has been taken off of her shoulders. She felt so guilting that she couldn't do anything to save her boy. At points, she thought she may never see him again. Maybe she should have warned him of the dangers, warned him of what may happen more. She feels like, in some ways, she has failed him. "But remember, okay?" 

             Kyle furrows his eyebrows. She hates the slit in his right eyebrow that he did when he was about fifteen years old- when she saw, she grounded him for weeks. "What?" He questions in confusion.

             "Stay safe?" 

 

             Kyle lies on his back, one arm around Dan, and the other hugging his ribs in fear of hurting them.

             "How are you feeling?" Dan asks quietly, not wanting to wake up the rest of the household. They lie in the dark and cuddle, but Kyle is being very quiet, too quiet for Dan not to notice. "Are you in pain?" 

            Kyle just shakes his head, staring up at the ceiling. "No, I'm just tired," he says, not moving at all. "That's all." 

            Dan's lips brush Kyle's neck and he looks at him for a moment. "Are you sure?" 

            Kyle nods. "I'm sure. I took some painkillers earlier. I'm just tired." 

            "Okay. You do need to tell me if anything is ever wrong, okay? I won't judge. I love you. I really do." Dan rambles, running his fingers through Kyle's hair. His hand then rests against Kyle's cheek, his thumb running over Kyle's cheekbone.

            "I love you too, Dan. I'm thankful for you." Kyle smiles, finally feeling happy. He's finally  _loving_ someone who loves him back all the same.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

        Despite the fact Kyle can never really find peace with all that has happened to him, he was pretty happy to sit there and hear his boyfriend's sentence for assault. He didn't care how long it was- a thousand years wouldn't be enough. But Kyle never has to see him again or put up with his abuse. A restraining order was also granted- this meant the man would never be able to come anywhere near Kyle or any of his family ever again. 

        Kyle could never be hurt by him again. All that manipulation, all that abuse, whether it be physical, emotional, verbal, mental, or sexual is now in the past. It's in his history he never has to return to.

       As they stand in the underground tube platform, Dan holds Kyle's hand tight. They're both wearing similar clothing- a white dress shirt, black dress trousers, and looking overall pretty smart. Kyle thinks Dan looks beautiful, and Kyle thinks the same about Dan.

       "What was his name?" The older of the men question as the platform around them begins to get crowded. Despite the crowd and the bigoted views of the many, Dan keeps a firm grip on Kyle's hand. "You never told me." 

       "I never told anyone who didn't know us," Kyle shrugs, feeling Dan lightly squeeze his hand as the train approaches. Since he has been in Dan's presence, if only for less than a week, he has become a happier person. He's become more confident than he was before, but it's not so noticeable to anyone else. Dan has noticed. He has begun to see a future with Dan.

        Last week, that future didn't exist.

        "I just don't think he deserves to have a name. All stories have a character who is unworthy of recognition, and he's that character in my own story. That's why it's only ever  _him._ That's why I never told you." 

         Dan nods in understanding, still holding Kyle's hand as they stand up. "You're really bright, Kyle. You have a lot going on up there," he gestures to his head, and he  _beams_ at Kyle. He smiles brighter than he has done in the recent weeks. "I'm so, so happy you're with me now. I'm so happy we are... We are what we are." 

          "Do...  Do you see us being long term?" He asks as they board the train, standing up to let an older couple sit down. "Do you see  _us_ in the future?" 

           Dan thinks for a moment, which makes Kyle feel sick a little bit. The moment feels longer than it actually is.

            "I do, Ky. Yeah... Yeah, I really do." Dan says, looking off into the distance. A smile grows on his face., a warmth on his features. "I really do see us together. It's nobody else but you." 

             "But I bet you thought that about Will, too..." Kyle says, "I thought that about  _him."_

              "Well, yeah. You always do- when you start seeing someone, they're the dog's bollocks. They're the best thing you've seen and you adore everything they do, but sometimes, in the long run, it doesn't work out. I can't say how  _this_ will end up, but I'm willing to give it a try. Things might not always go the way you want them to, but it's just about  _talking, expressing_ your problems- and that was Will and I's downfall. The lack of communication- Hell, we'd sit in silence some nights. Will wouldn't talk to me if he had a problem, and he would keep it cooped up until it all exploded. 

               "I'm not trying to pin this all on him. I was the same. I would argue about little things and bitch like a twat, but it just fell apart. It didn't end on a bad note, we decided to stay friends. But, you and I, Kyle, regardless of what happens, you and I are gonna work on getting better." 

               Kyle knows he means that more for him than himself, but he doesn't mention it. He appreciates Dan so much.

                 They walk in the front door of Dan's flat, kicking their shoes off and taking a long sigh of relief. Kyle heads into the small kitchen to make them both a cup of tea, as thanks for supporting him.

                 "Do your ribs still hurt?" Dan asks, walking over to Kyle and wraps his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder. His hands trail down, below Kyle's belt.

                  "No, they're alright now. They can ache sometimes, but..." Kyle shrugs, his face lightly heating as Dan's hands travel a bit lower. His heart begins to thump. "W-why?" 

                  Dan has a smile on his lips, and something in his voice that suggests love or passion. On the walk back from the underground station, Dan's hands had been wondering and, more times than a few, had rested on his bum. 

                  "Well..." Dan says, keeping his voice low. "Well, like... I was thinking, you know. If you're up to it... Do you wanna?"  

                    Kyle closes his eyes, he's not even sure if he's ready yet. "I... I want to, Dan, I  _do._ But... But I'm not sure if I can.. If I can do it..." He says, his voice quiet. He feels like crying for some reason. 

                     "Do you want to try? I won't force you into it, Ky, but we can go and see how comfortable you are if that'll make you feel better?" 

                      

                      "I-I can't, Dan.  _Stop, Dan-"_ Kyle's voice is shaking and it feels like there's a heavy weight sat on his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Tears sit in his eyes and  _fuck_ does he feel pathetic. Nothing has happened between them yet- but something is reminding him of all the times this happened without his consent, without him really knowing, all the drugged up nights where he was forced into it, where he, scared and crying, had a hand pressed over his mouth and he lost the right to even speak. He hates that it has scarred him so much, he hates how much it controls his life.  _"Dan!"_

"I've stopped, I've stopped," Dan says quickly, sitting up, "Are you okay? God- fuck- Jesus Christ. I'm sorry, Kyle, I shouldn't have pushed you." 

                        "Just let me breathe,  _please."_ Kyle is pleading with Dan, tears falling down his face. Both of them are completely naked and Dan hates himself for thinking so soon would be a good idea. Kyle moves and pulls the cover over him, sitting up and about having a panic attack. "I- God, I'm sorry. I want to, I just- I can't do it right-"  

                         "I understand, Kyle," Dan wraps him up in his arms and kisses the top of his head. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Baby. I really wouldn't. I love you and I want what's best for you, and if that means you don't want  _this,_ then I'm willing to do that. I'm always here for you. I will do anything make sure you're happy." 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_-Hey. You okay?_

            -Dan, we're sitting on the sofa right next to each other.

_-I know, but you're being quiet._

            -We're watching TV, that's why.

_-I know but you're too quiet. What's on your mind?_

            -I'm fine, Dan. I'm just thinking.

_-Thinking about what?_

            -Nothing, Dan. I'm fine.

_-Kyleee_

"Stop texting me," Kyle mutters, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see his reaction. He swallows the lump in his throat. "We are sat right next to each other. I'm fine."

            "Alright, alright, I'm not gonna keep annoying you about whatever it is on your mind, but I know you're lying. If you wanna talk about it, I'm always here."

            A gentle hand is placed on Kyle's knee and his body immediately stiffens, as if a burst of pain would be following. After a moment, he relaxes. Honestly, he wishes he could talk about it- it feels like the words are jammed in his throat but they can't quite escape. In a sense, Kyle has been trained to hide what he feels, taught that showing his emotions made him weak, and therefore more prone to his boyfriend attacking him. This confused him, emotionally. He was angry, he was upset, but he didn't dare show it. The thought of everything that happened struck the fear of God in him.

            A breeze blows in through the open window, making the curtain dance. For a moment, there is nothing but silence from the men and the sound of the general hustle and bustle of the city, along with the roar of the overground as it rumbles past the flat.

            "Ky-"

            "I'm fine." His hisses, letting his anger take over him for just a moment. "I'm not some, some little damaged kid, Dan. I don't need to be checked on every five minutes. I'm a grown ma-" he has to force the words to come out of him, "I'm a grown man. The best thing you can do is not ask me if I'm okay, because I'm not going to be okay all the time you ask, but the more you do, the more I'll lie. Just let me get better on my own terms, let me help myself first."

 

            "Hey, Ky," 

            Almost silently, Dan kneels down by the sofa, where Kyle lies, asleep. He fell asleep about an hour ago after they came back from getting food, and he's been lying there ever since, his long legs hanging half off of the sofa and his hands holding the cushion over his chest as he lies on his side, his head resting against the sofa. A blanket, which is different patches of eggplant purple and pickle green, is draped over him, the second sofa cushion resting beneath his head.

            "Hey,"

           "Hmm?" The man moves his head to look up at Dan, his hair plastered against his forehead because of the way he has been sleeping. "'Sup?" 

            Dan smiles at him, the look of total obliviousness on his face absolutely adorable in his mind. "I'm playing at the pub later- people will have to pay to pay to get in this time!" He runs his fingers through Kyle's messy, dark hair, and although he wants to, Kyle has to hold himself there instead of pulling his head away. There's no pain, no sudden yank of his hair. There is love in his movements, peace, comfort. It's amazing, and Kyle feels overwhelmed slightly.

            "What time?" Kyle stretches his limbs out as far as he can without them hurting, hearing his knee click. In a sleepy burst of love, his pulls Dan close to him and kisses him, taking a deep breath of Dan's freshly-applied aftershave.

            The other man's cheeks turn slightly pink as he smiles, their faces now separated. "In about an hour, so if you want to shower to wake yourself up. But if you don't wanna come, that's fine too. You can stay here to sleep."

            "No, no, I'll come," he rolls over now, so he is lying on his other side and not craning his neck to look at Dan. "You need a haircut, though." 

            "I know I do, but I can't be bothered to go. Besides, I think it makes me stand out a little bit. It might be, like, my iconic thing when I'm famous in ten years." 

            Kyle laughs, casting his eyes away. "Until they start calling you stupid names like  _Fuzzy._ And don't laugh, Daniel, you'll have a stupid nickname soon enough. Quiff-Man-Dan!" 

            They both laugh but Dan insists it's really not funny at all. "Come on, get up, then. I'll get it cut if you hurry up." 

 

            "This is my song Flaws, and it's written about, er, someone and everyone." 

            Dan has never felt so embarrassed as he stands in front of the keyboard, his hands shaking and eyes looking everywhere but the crowd in front of him. Kyle sits at one of the tables, his hood pulled over his head so no one can recognise him. He's all loved up as he watches Dan, nursing a pint of Fosters. He listens to him ramble on for a few minutes about the lack of CDs he has to give people and the likes.

            "Oi, Kyle," someone calls, snapping Kyle's attention to them. He doesn't know the man, but he has a look of sympathy written on his face. "Hey, listen, I just wanted to say sorry." 

            After the man introduces himself, Kyle frowns. "Sorry for what?" 

            "For your boyfriend- everything he did to you. We all knew what was going on, but none of us said anything." He shrugs carelessly as if his apology doesn't mean anything in the first place. "Sorry 'bout that." 

            Maybe it's the alcohol that gives him the small burst of confidence, the small spark of anger. "Sorry? All you can fucking say is  _sorry,_ now? Why did you say anything at the time? Sorry doesn't mean anything to me after all that has happened. Shove your fucking apology up your arse." 

            Kyle stands and storms over to a different table, raging within himself as he does so. Apologies mean nothing to him when there was a chance for somebody to help.

            "Alright, stranger?" Someone asks, making Kyle roll his eyes.

            "Leave me-" He turns and realises it's Will sat there, not someone else like he expected. "Oh, hey, Will. What're you doing here?" 

            "Figured I'd come to watch Dan. Not in a creepy way or anything, we're just still good friends, so..." As opposed to alcohol, Will has a pint of coke, which he drinks. He has concern in his eyes as he looks at Kyle again.

            "Yeah, yeah I'm fine- I'm fine..." He sighs and sits down, "Don't worry 'bout it." 

            Will nods in understanding as Dan begins to sing, although something about the song sounds strange. It's piano based, but Kyle thinks it would sound better with something else in it, too.

            "That was alright, wasn't it?" Will smiles, quite impressed with Dan's talent. "So, you and him, huh?"

            "Oh... Yeah..." Kyle says awkwardly- he doesn't want to rub it in and say oh yeah I love him, because that'd just be weird. "We are. He kinda... He's done a lot for me."

            "I know. I'm not mad, I'm genuinely happy or you." Will smiles, "I knew as soon as he saw you he was head over heels for you. Things weren't working out for us way before you came, so it's no biggie. I just wish the best for you both."

 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

            Will, Kyle, and Dan spent the night together in the pub, laughing about all the stupid things that aren't really funny, or the silly memories they have before Dan and Kyle go back to the flat- somehow convincing a very drunk Will to play the guitar for Dan so they can make some sort of music before the left. Kyle had smiled, thinking about how it was cool that Dan and Will had remained friends, and somehow Will can still stand Kyle.

            But now, back at the flat, Kyle is the drunk one as Dan is trying to get him to go to bed without laughing or getting distracted by something, which has often been Dan's hair, which has now been shaved at the sides. As much as he thought he wouldn't like it, Kyle does.

            "Come on," Dan says, his hood pulled over his head, so Kyle has no reason to get distracted again. He pulls Kyle's hoodie off of him, leaving just his t-shirt. "Let's get you to bed before you pass out somewhere." 

            "I'm not tired." Kyle shakes his head in refusal, his speech slurred and lazy. "Don't need t' sleep." 

            Dan just scoffs at him, taking his hand gently to stop the man from falling over. "You  _are_ tired, you're acting like a kid." He rubs his thumb over his knuckles, watching Kyle shake his head and stumble away from Dan with loose and lethargic movements as he lets himself fall onto the bed. He watches him with an amused smile, a quiet chuckle escaping him, but Kyle doesn't hear. If he did, he'd spend the next half hour trying to make Dan laugh again. "You'll regret it in the morning," 

            He leans down and removes Kyle's shoes, kneeling by the foot of the bed.

            "End up regretting everything in the mornin' anyways," he stares up at the ceiling, regretting drinking so much, because he's the honest drunk, especially when it comes to his personal life- he'll tell anyone anything, and the worst thing is, he knows when he's about to do it, but he can't stop himself. "Always do it. Regret, like, all of my life. All the time. Not just the morning, but every moment I'm alive. All of it."

            Dan sighs, pulling Kyle's shoe off of his foot. "You shouldn't regret things, Kyle. It's unhealthy to live in regret. You live and you learn," 

            "Yeah, you're right. Like, you go home, get beat the fuck out of, learn, go back, and it happens again, over and over." Kyle laughs to himself, although there's nothing about it that's funny. There's a scar down his lip where it split, and another along his nose where it was bust a while back. "I've always been a good learner. Smart, me, huh?" 

            "You know it's not your fault, Kyle. You know it's not." Dan manages to get Kyle's second shoe off, placing both of them by the door. Kyle is thinking about his past, but Dan doesn't know how he thinks so deeply when be being so drunk. "You can't help what other people do. You had your reasons that I can't even imagine made you frightened, so you didn't leave. I can't even imagine how you felt, but that's all in the past soon. You're here, right now, with me, and you're safe. Don't live your life in regrets." 

            Kyle sighs a long, worn out breath. He is still lying down as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, his drunken accuracy proving awful. "You know what I regret the most, Dan?" 

            Dan moves his hands out of the way so he can undo the buttons for him, gently taking it from Kyle as he does. He presses his lips against his forehead before going to fetch a pyjama top for him. "What's that, then?" 

            The man doesn't hesitate as the words roll out of his mouth, shrugging carelessly. "I regret not killing myself when I had the chance." 

            And just like that, everything seems so much more real, now. Dan is suddenly reminded that all of the suffering and pain that Kyle went through was his actual reality from which there was no escape. It's not a tv show or a book where you could stop it, pause it, or put it down to take a break. He can understand why Kyle thought exactly what he did. 

            "But you're happy now, right?" He tries not to show the concern or pity in his voice, but he feels sick with the thought that Kyle could've taken his own life.

            "Don't look at me like that, Dan. I can see the fucking pity in your eyes- don't need it." Kyle tries to roll his eyes, although the best he can do is lolling his head around since he's drunk. "I'm fucking ruined. How can I be happy like this? How can I be happy knowing that I let him do all of that to me? It's worse than I've told you." 

            "W-what did he do, Kyle?" He doesn't think he'll like the answer as he slips Kyle's shirt over him, covering the bruises, cuts, burns, and scars on his body. Kyle doesn't even look at Dan as he sits crossed legs, watching him.

            "He hit me. Beat me every single fucking day. Raped me- oh, and you wanna know what's best? Everyone,  _everyone_ fucking knew what was happening, and you're the only one who tried to do anything." Tears well in his eyes as he feels the sickening feeling of shame rest on his chest before he tells Dan the slurred story of the guy in the pub.

            Dan is at a lost for words- there is so much truth coming out in these four walls that he feels completely lost with it all.

            "I'd have killed myself a long time ago if it were up to me." 

            "But... That means we never would have me-" 

            "Don't act like you'd miss me. You wouldn't know who I am. I'd be forgotten, I wouldn't even be a name. That's what I dese-"

            "Kyle, shut up, okay? Stop saying you deserved stupid shit like that, okay? You're a beautiful person, you have a beautiful personality and you're simply amazing.  _I'm_ so glad you're here, and I don't care how much you've been through, I'll still love you no matter what. Now come on, let's sleep." 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

             "Oh my God, I feel so shitty. Hangovers never felt this bad when I was seventeen..." Kyle groans when the morning rolls around, pulling the duvet far over his head to block out the noises that cause his head to throb so much, like the rain tapping against the window. Dan chuckles quietly as he tries to put himself in Kyle's place- he's spent many days in that very bed over the time he's been in this flat, paralysed by his own hangover and telling himself he'll never drink again, which never proved true.

             "Do you want anything? A drink, some tablets?" He offers, pulling himself lethargically out of bed and pulling on a pair of socks. It's about ten in the morning, and it's a silent agreement that today will be a lazy day. Honestly, Dan didn't plan to get out of bed today, but he could've used someone helping him feel better all those times he was hungover.

             "I want  _death."_ The boy sighs dramatically, his voice thick with regret and pain. Despite the fact it's only a comment, Kyle's confession last night rings clear in Dan's mind. "I'm kidding- but yes, please." 

             He pads into the kitchen, almost tripping over Kyle's shoes by the bedroom door as he does so. Even through his socks, the tiles are cold against his feet, waking him up and bringing him back to reality. He feels horrifically sick at the thought of Kyle ever cutting his own story short- he's far too good for his story to end this soon. His story may not be as romantic as others, and it may be filled with more pain and suffering than most, but Dan's determined to at least give it a few happy chapters. The world cannot afford to lose Kyle.

             "Did I say anything that I'm going to hate myself for saying?" The man questions on Dan's return, yawning. He feels God awful- his world is spinning, which only moves faster when he rubs his eyes. "I'm a stupid drink- too honest for my own good. That got me a few scars, I tell you."

             The comment makes the young singer pause, his voice catching in his throat. "Uh... no, not really, no... You were just talking about the night, really." 

             He knows he shouldn't lie to Kyle, but he doesn't think he could tell Kyle what it was that he said. Maybe Kyle will tell him when he's in a better state of mind and fully aware of his actions. It was such a personal thing that Kyle admitted, he could never tell him.

             Kyle smiles- well, the best he can whilst feeling this rough. He's never had a hangover in the recent years- though, he can't remember how long it's been since he last drank himself stupid. How long was he with  _him?_ Take a month or two off of that, that was the last time. He couldn't bring himself to drink after the second time of being drunk around his boyfriend- he had been truly honest about all he was feeling and the way he was being treated, and waking up the next day was far worse than any hangover he could've had, including this one.

             "Thank God," he thought he would end up spilling something that would lead to Dan taking his anger out on him- but Dan probably wouldn't do that. Hopefully. Maybe? "I usually say something I really end up regretting whatever it is I've said. I can't really remember anything I've said." 

             Dan smiles sadly, remaining wordless as Kyle lies back down in his arms, feeling warm, loved, and protected in his arms. He kisses the man's temple, pulling the thick blanket over them both before he begins to think. Think a little more than he should.  
  


             Dan opens the door to the flat to reveal Will stood there, holding a bag of McDonald's. "I brought this. I'm hungover, and Kyle drank eight times more than everyone there, so he probably is too." 

             "You're right. I'm surprised you even made it here," Dan says in surprise, letting him in. Will's usually dead for three days after getting drunk. 

             "I am too." Will laughs, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. "Is he awake or still dead?" 

             "Still dead. I'll put it in the microwave- I mean, cold McDonald's isn't great but..." Dan shrugs, "Thank you, though." 

             Will just smiles and sits down on the sofa. He misses this flat slightly, and part of him misses Dan, but he's happy for him. He's happy for him for being happy and in a relationship with someone he truly loves, and, as far as his knowledge goes, there are no problems and they are both very loving, and he's happy for Kyle for being  _safe._ He hates himself for not speaking up sooner.

             "You and Kyle then, huh?" Will winks, raising his eyebrows. Dan just looks sheepish. "Don't look at me like that. I'm happy for you." He laughs, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. "I'm happy that you're happy. We weren't working out and that's fine, just as long as you're happy."

             "You couldn't be a better person, Will. You're great." 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

          "Kyle?"

          The wind is blowing between the branches of the trees, and something about the scene suggests peace and contempt. It's calm for both of them, a situation they want to stay in. There is nothing but the beautiful scene in front of them and the love between them. For some reason, despite the greens of the grass and the leaves and the browns of the dirt, everything seems remotely blue and white because of the blue sky, dotted with brilliant white clouds.

          "Hmm?" His answer is almost drowned out by the singing birds and the howl of the wind.

          "Are you happy?" 

          The air smells fresh and it sticks to their skin and clothes like glue. It refreshes them, something Kyle hasn't felt for a while. It feels, more than anything,  _new._

          A smile grows on Kyle's face, though he only glances to Dan before looking into the distance. "Of course I am, Dan," he tells him, one of his legs tucked to his chest and the other lying beneath it. "Course I am."

          "You... You don't look very happy," Dan takes Kyle's hand, running his thumb gently over his knuckles before giving it a light squeeze, entwining their fingers together. Kyle squeezes his hand back just the same.

          "I have a resting bitch face. But seriously, sometimes it's hard to tell what someone's thinking. Don't worry about it." He likes this field they are sat in- it reminds him of his childhood, the careless days, the peaceful nights, back when he felt like his life was worth it, back when he wasn't terrified of everything.

          Dan nods in understanding, his eyes not leaving Kyle's face. "I know what you mean." The colouring around Kyle's lips is beginning to fade, but there's still a bloody scab left from where it was split. "What's on your mind, then?" 

          "Us." 

          "Us?"

          Dan's face falls from confusion and concern. He thought things were going pretty well- well, as well as they can go. He's fallen pretty much head over heels for Kyle, which he thinks he's done too fast, but now he worries the feelings are not mutual. 

          "Are we not working out?" 

          "No, it's not that at all. I just, I just want  _us,_ Dan.  _Us."_ Kyle picks his words really carefully, though he does it in a rush. He has to watch what he says before he says something he doesn't mean to.

          "We... We have us though, Kyle. I don't get what you mean?" 

          "What I mean is that I want us to be everything we could be- everything we  _should_ be. We could be awesome but I hold us back.  _All the time._ There's so much we could do, but I just... I just keep us back. It's been weeks since everything happened and yet I still can't have sex with you.  I'm holding us back so much." Kyle rambles, letting his words run away with themselves.  _You should have just quit when you had the chance. Why are you even here?_ He knows he's untrustworthy when it comes to his emotions- Hell, for the last few years, he hasn't known if he's coming or going. His emotions are so fucked up right now. 

          Dan just wraps his arm around Kyle, pulling him closer and letting him rest his head on his shoulder. "That doesn't matter to me, Kyle. You know I love you, sex, stuff like that, it can wait. You just... You have to step out of your comfort zone a little bit to try and get into normal life." He ghosts his fingertips over Kyle's arms, feeling the goosebumps he is creating. "I think... I think we should go on holiday." 

          "Holiday? Why?" 

          "Just to get away- you know, maybe it'll help everything feel a bit better. Maybe you'll feel better." 

          "I haven't been on holiday for years. Hell, I hardly left the flat, honestly. Who would watch the flat- where would we go?" 

          "Stop worrying," Dan laughs, "We'll sort something out, I'm sure. You can pick where we go if you want. Somewhere you've never been..." 

          "Well, it's not like we have unlimited money..." Kyle says, shrugging. "There's a budget." 

          "Of course there is. So, why don't we go somewhere like Spain or Majorca first, somewhere a little closer to home, and then, if anything happens with my music, I'll take you on your dream holiday? How about that then, Ky?" Dan smiles confidently, wrapping his arms around the man's chest. "Anywhere in the world, I'll take you there and we'll have the time of our lives." 

          "It sounds good, Dan, but-" 

          "Don't let the if's and but's hold you back, Kyle. You are a free bird, whatever you want to do in life, you can. There is  _nothing_ holding you back. Tell me where you'd like to go, and I'll sort it out sometime in the future. Anywhere at all, the sky is the limit." He kisses the nape of Kyle's neck, digging his teeth into his skin slightly.

          "I've... I've always wanted to go to America. You know, be a tourist. See Niagra Falls, Route 66, New York. Stupid little things like that, it's all I've ever wanted." Kyle tells him, "But it's so exp-" 

          "Then America it is, my love. Anything for you." 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

          Kyle and Dan potter around the small flat the following day, cleaning up and washing clothes. Dan is knelt by the washing machine, pushing clothes into it and trying to remember for the love of  _God_ how you use it.

          "If you keep balancing the basket like that, it's going to fall." He tells Kyle, beginning to get wound up at the blood, machine. Something isn't working as it should be, and now he's completely lost on what to do.

          "It's not going to fall." Kyle mumbles, sounding almost like a cocky, stubborn teenager. He watches Dan try and work out the  _'bloody piece of shit thing, God fucking damn it!'_ and trying to point out what he could do to try and make it work. "Maybe you could-" 

          "I know what I'm doing, Kyle!" Dan snaps, slamming the door to the washer shut, which echoes through the whole apartment. Kyle jumps in surprise, mostly in fear than anything else, which makes the washing basket, full of their clothes, drop to the floor.  _"KYLE!_ I said not to balance it there!" 

          It's only visible as Kyle's frame shrinks, his skin turning a shade paler. He quickly sets to work to pick up the mess as his blood runs cold and he feels sick to the pit of his stomach. He knows he's a coward for being scared- Hell, he's always been a coward in his own mind, but it's even worse when it's because of  _Dan._

          "I'm sorry-" he mumbles, his voice and hands shaking as he quickly puts everything back into the basket. "I'm really sorry, please don't-" 

          The guilt that slams down on his shoulders makes Dan feel sick. He shouldn't have yelled at Kyle, and there's no excuse for it, but it feels like everything is getting on top of him right now- he's trying to send songs off to labels, he's still trying to make enough money to keep a roof over their heads.  He's hardly been sleeping and eating, and sometimes it just gets too much.

          But that's not Kyle's fault.

          He takes a few moments to collect and compose himself before he does anything else.

          "Are you- are you mad at me, Dan?" Kyle asks quietly, not having the courage to lift his eyes for any more than a few seconds. When Dan does see them, they're full of  _fear_ and it makes him feel sick. 

          "I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm not mad. I shouldn't have yelled at you- I shouldn't have snapped." He walks over to Kyle and wraps him up in his arms. "I'm really sorry." 

          Kyle stays silent and still as Dan holds him and plants a soft kiss to his temple. He still feels on edge- his ex would do this exact thing. He'd hold him there, kiss him, apologise, but then moments later Kyle would be on the floor in pain. There has been so much emotional manipulation, he wonders if he'll ever be the same again.

          "I am really sorry Kyle. Let's get this done, then we'll go out, yeah?" Softly, Dan's fingers drag through Kyle's hair as he feels him nod, but he still feels awfully sick.

 

          "Why did he do it? Why did he hurt you like that?" One of Dan's hands is wrapped around his pint glass as the other entwines with Kyle, who is also holding his glass.

          "I have no idea," Kyle replies, his voice quiet. "There was something he didn't like, obviously. Either that, or he didn't like me, at all." He looks down at the table and tries to help himself not panic. "It would be anything, he would take anything out on me. Doesn't matter what I did right or wrong, I'd still end up broken over it." 

          Dan just shakes his head, his stomach twisting. "I'm really sorry, Kyle. I really, really am sorry. Fucking Hell, you don't deserve that shit. You're too good to let some shithead like him drag you down." 

          Kyle nods but he doesn't say anything. He knows Dan cares for him and he knows he wouldn't lie, but he can't help but be suspicious at the same time. He doesn't want to be lead on, he doesn't want this to be fake. He doesn't want it to turn into everything that happened in his past. But, Dan would never be that horrible, hopefully.

          "Hey, look at me. Look at me. I know you're not going to be completely trusting about this, I know you're going to worry, and I know your anxiety is going to be unbearable at times and it's going to play Hell with everything I'm telling you- but I really do love you, Kyle. I think the world of you. I want us to last, and I want us to have a family and I want you to look back on this in a few years and not feel the fear, the pain, the suffering that you went through. I want you to not be scared, and I want you to know that none of this is your fault." 


	20. Chapter Twenty

      "Dan, it's three in the morning, what are you doing?" Kyle buries his head into the pillow under his head, stretching his arms out to hold the boy- but instead of the warm, familiar body he usually feels, he finds Dan wearing a jacket. "Why are you dressed?"

      "You have to get up," he replies with a quiet urgency in his voice, "Come on, hurry up, we don't have much time." 

      "Is it something to do with the label?" The lanky boy rises, sitting up. It's been about two years since they were signed by Virgin. Dan had somehow managed to teach Kyle how to play keys, and Will had been dragged into the band before they found Woody at a party and managed to sweet talk him into the band. Virgin didn't waste much time in signing them.

      "No, no, we just need to move. Come on, I've packed all of your stuff- come on,  _hurry up!"_ Dan moves across the room and grabs a jumper and a pair of jeans, which he throws at Kyle. Kyle quickly shoots up and blindly pulls them on, grunting about something or another.

      "What's going on?" He finally questions as he follows Dan out of the dark bedroom, finding the flat the same as it has been for the last few years since he came here in the search of sanctuary. "Dan, come on, tell me." 

      "I can't," Dan takes his hand and pulls him out of the flat, locking the door quickly behind them.

      Not that's he's going to tell Kyle this yet, but he's been awake since midnight packing everything and putting it in their car to go on holiday- to America, just like Kyle wanted. Everything is in the car and ready to go.

      The drive feels long, and Kyle falls asleep multiple times along the way, only to wake up and realise he has no idea where they are.

      "We're at the airport?" He asks when the building comes to into the view. "Why are we here? We meeting someone?" 

      Dan parks the car and climbs out, leaving Kyle rambling questions as he follows him to the boot, standing by it impatiently, and as Dan goes to put his hand on the boot to open it, Kyle slams his hand there first. 

      "No. Tell me where we're going." He tells Dan, almost glaring at him. "Stop keeping things from me." 

      Dan rolls his eyes and pulls out the tickets from the pocket of his hoodie, putting them into Kyle's other hand. "The land of the great, the land of the free. We're going to America, Kyle." 

 

      "Hey, Baby. Come on. Our plane is boarding. We have to go to our gate." The singer tells Kyle as they sit on the uncomfortable, plastic chairs in the airport. Their limbs have gone numb and Dan can't remember how long they have been here. Kyle had drifted to and from sleep at several different points, but right now, he just wants to be on that plane.

      Kyle yawns, stretching out his legs. "Hmm? for real this time?" He questions, his sleepy, brown eyes blinking softly.

      Dan smiles, "We have to go, the plane is boarding." Dan runs his thumb over Kyle's knuckles and gently twists the golden band on his ring finger as he brings it to his lips to kiss it. "Come one, before we miss it." 

"God, Danny. 'm so excited." He says, letting Dan pull him to his feet. "So, so excited." 

      "I know you are, Babe. Now come on, let's go." He says quietly, his hood pulled over his head. He wears his glasses, simply because when he woke up, he realised he needed his contacts... Which were already in his bag, which is now on the plane. "You can sleep on the plane." 

      They make their way across the airport and to the gate, Dan dragging Kyle along hand in hand as though he were a sleepy child. Dan has learned over the years that Kyle has a hard time with mornings, but he's slowly getting better. 

      Kyle is nothing like he used to be. He's gone back to his old self, back before he met his ex. He's happier, now, young and carefree. If you saw him, you would never even think about the stories that Kyle has. the only telltale signs are the scars that litter his body. 

      But he's happy. He loves the way he is, and he loves the life he has. Actually, he received a letter from his ex-boyfriend, but Kyle put it straight in the bin.

      "Why are we going to America, Dan?" Kyle finally asks when the plane is in the air, flying away from all the two boys have ever known. They haven't been able to tour America yet, despite their rising success. 

      "Because you wanted to, Kyle. I promised that we would, too." Dan tells him, lighting kissing his bearded cheek. "Are you happy, Ky?" 

      "Of course I am, Danny. I'm always happy when I'm with you." 


End file.
